I am the DH: Being Married to Ironic Mom (Part II)

Back by popular request after his Part 1 post, here is my husband, that man who once complimented me by saying, “You’re the third funniest woman I’ve ever met.” Enjoy his guest post on what it’s like to be married to a farm girl.

I am the DH. I am the Dear Husband, butt of jokes, proof reader, sounding board, cheerleader. I am the DH, silent partner, lurking presence, yang to the yin of Ironic Mom, base camp so she can summit three times a week, if you know what I mean.

I have been married to Leanne Shirtliffe for over 11 years. I met the proto-Ironic Mom in the Middle East, a world away from the Manitoba farm on which she grew up. When she said yes to my awkward marriage proposal, part of me looked forward to the stereotypical idea of having a farm-reared wife. I imagined hearty meals made of produce, crisp from our as yet uncultivated backyard garden, lines of freshly canned preserves standing at attention in our pantry, and homemade pies cooling on the window sill of our kitchen.

I got something different.

I got Leanne the Farm Girl/Cartographer. Everything has a compass direction. She will blurt out “I think we should move that picture to the east wall in our bedroom,” or “just turn north after the wine store.” I am a city boy. Give it to me in lefts and rights, Marco Polo.

By the time she had her first BMX bike, Leanne had been driving vehicles for a while. Yes, this is her.

I got Leanne the Farm Girl/Motorist. Every mild to severe disagreement we have in traffic is settled by her bottom line: “Hey, look, I’ve been driving since I was 10.” My stories of passing my driver’s test on the mean streets of Edmonton do not compete with the mental image of an 10-year-old in a ball cap behind the wheel of a grain truck. How can they?

I got Leanne the Farm Girl/Foghorn Leghorn. When she really gets going, Leanne stops sounding like an educated, rational woman and goes right into the cartoon rooster mode. Disputes are settled with “You can’t tell ME what to do. I’m a gonna DO what I wants to DO.” Thankfully she rarely adds: “You’ve GOT to keep your EYE on the BALL… EYEBALL, that’s a JOKE, son.”

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KTwnwbG9YLE]

.

I married Leanne expecting fresh pies. I got a wife full of independence, attitude, a touch of stroppiness, and irony.

Thank God.

Neither my DH nor I could come up with an interesting question that was relevant to this post, so it’s your turn. Feel free to ask a question. Heck, you can even answer it. If you don’t, I’ll either tell the truth or make something up. Scout’s honour.

Reader Interactions

Comments

Good for you, Leanne. The old bait-and-switch gets them every time. My hubby thought he was marrying an attorney who would make him biscuits and sausage gravy every morning. He got a writer who barely takes time to cook. They really must love us, huh?

By the way, I’m not sure how I missed the Thing Tour sign up, but please put me down. I’d love to give your Things a tour of the Wild West.

Well, in a nutshell, I went to Bahrain as a single woman in 1997 to teach at an IB school. I met the librarian there (who was from Edmonton, Alberta). He made me laugh. He read books. And he looked Arabic (he actually is partly Lebanese), which was not a requirement, but was kind of amusing when I sent pictures home to my parents of this man I was dating. (My mom didn’t fall for it…she thought I had convinced the taxi driver to pose with me…she knows me well).

I’ve come to learn that there are more left-right people then east-west. When you’re 12 and you get directions to make dinner, then drive it out to the northwest corner of Section 28, but use the east crossing because the west one is too rutted, you have to learn quickly. Harvest is not a time for mistakes!

@Cheryl: You know you’re implicating yourself in that cat comment. Was that the same time we gave the cat a boat ride on the river or was it different? Seriously. We could write a book about our childhood. I think my parents would have a heart attack, though.

I got a giggle out of Leanne’s opening comment about DH referring to her as the third funniest woman he’s ever met. I’d prefer to be called funny over beautiful (and without a lot of plastic surgery only one of these options is possible anyway). DH, you did a fine job blogging again. Irony balances obstreperousness, so that makes Leanne a near perfect specimen. My question is: How much editing did Leanne do to your blog? In this instance editing includes: Mild suggestions, pacing while you wrote or downloaded the piece, heavy sighing when she read it, or surprise corrections discovered after publication. (I have money riding on this so I would appreciate an honest answer…in other words, MAN UP!) ;}

My DH thought he was getting a teacher with a steady income and energy to burn. Now he supports me (along with disability) while I write blogs and silly poems and “stuff.” He is a sweetheart! Seriously, what is stroppiness? Jodi

I cannot imagine my husband ever posting for mr. That would be excellent. My hubby knew what he was getting: a flirty girl who sometimes accidentally buys truck meat.

It is amazing how many times Leanne can toss the words “grain” and “farm” into a conversation. She’s like a drinking game! Every time she says these words (and apparently a direction), someone should have to drink some apple juice. Or something. 🙂

Now trending, DH posts while I travel. Great read even though I’m behind. Love the intro line about base camp! Also laughed at left and rights Marco Polo. That’s me too. A compass is useless to me much of the time. I prefer misguided instincts. Sounds like instinct worked out with that proposal though for you two. And I need to find ways to work the word stroppiness into my speech. If it is a real word.